


A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes

by MaxWrite



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-19
Updated: 2010-05-19
Packaged: 2017-10-18 13:28:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxWrite/pseuds/MaxWrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little Pavel Chekov was different than other children.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:** _"You know you're in love when you don't want to fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams."_ ~ Dr. Seuss
> 
> Written for the final prompt of [st_respect's](http://st_respect.livejournal.com) Ship Wars.

Little Pavel Chekov was different than other children.

He liked to talk and run and play and learn new things. But his ideas were too complex for even some adults to understand, and it was difficult to find other kids who were different like he was, even in his advanced classes. He was also very small for his age, which meant he could run faster than the other boys, but it also meant that if caught, he couldn't easily get away. Most adults were always telling him to slow down, don't run, speak more slowly, be still, be quiet. Pavel was always too fast, too loud, too smart, too much.

"But Papa," said Pavel one day as he followed his father around the house. "If they can beam themselves to anywhere, can they not simply beam themselves into our house?"

"Don't be silly, Pavel, that isn't going to happen," said Papa. He had that tone in his voice that told Pavel he'd have to stop asking questions soon, but Pavel still had many more questions, and Mama always made him clear his dinner plate, so Pavel figured he should try to clear his question plate too.

"But why not?" he asked.

"Because nobody wants to transport themselves into our home. Why are you so concerned about what goes on in Starfleet? You are going to take over the family business when you grow up, not go into space."

"Yes. Right. Okay, but Papa –"

"Pavel," Papa sighed. He stopped walking and turned to look down at Pavel. "You are not going to Starfleet."

"But –"

"No more questions! You have school work to complete, yes?"

But Pavel's head was still filled with questions, most of them pertaining to space, but some of them about other things, like why did the apple sauce in the school's cafeteria always have a slightly metallic taste, and why did Igor, who sat next to Pavel in class, always use his hands to wipe his nose, and why was Mrs. Petrova, Pavel's history teacher, no longer wearing her pretty golden ring?

Sometimes Pavel's questions made people angry with him, but they rarely explained why. So, Pavel would ask his mama.

"She is getting divorced, Pasha," said Mama one night as she tucked him in. "She and her husband have fallen out of love and won't be living together anymore."

"Oh," said Pavel thoughtfully. "And she is sad about it?"

"That's right. And it is nobody's business what happens between her and her husband, so questions about it will upset her."

"And that is why she started to cry?"

"Yes, Pasha."

"Oh…I should apologize."

"Yes, you should. And I know you will. You are such a good boy."

"But my teachers say I talk too much," Pavel protested.

"I know, Pasha."

"And Papa says I am too restless."

"I know, Pasha."

"Mama?"

"Yes, Pasha?"

"What is 'restless'?"

Mama smiled her lovely smile and stroked Pavel's hair. "It is another word for 'energetic'. It means you are playful and like to run."

"Papa thinks this is bad."

"Your papa is simply jealous. He wishes he had half the energy you do. You be yourself, my little star. Always be yourself."

"But everyone says I am 'too much'."

"You can't hide your true self, Pasha. Besides, you are perfect as you are. Mama understands you. And one day, someone else will too."

Pavel wasn't so sure about this, but he appreciated Mama's words all the same.

She kissed him goodnight and left his room. He lay awake for a long time, staring at the hologram of outer space that sprawled across his ceiling. Planets spun and stars twinkled and little comets went whizzing by, and Pavel knew that one day he would be up there too, among the stars with people just like him, not trapped in a stuffy office, running his family's business.

Pavel finally closed his eyes. He liked to dream. He sometimes liked it more than being awake. He often had lucid dreams, dreams that he could control. He liked those dreams best, because he could fly in them. He'd fly way up high, up through earth's atmosphere and into space. He hated to wake up from those dreams. Real life was never as good.

Sometimes he could even decide what he dreamed about. If he thought really hard about what he wanted to dream before falling asleep, sometimes he would dream of it. Tonight, Pavel thought about the perfect friend, someone like the person Mama had spoken of, someone who understood him. He wished as hard as he could and kept on wishing until he fell asleep.

Suddenly there was a _thud_ and Pavel woke up. He sat up, eyes wide and searching the darkness. He seemed to be alone, but just when he began to think the noise had been in his head, he heard little mutterings from across the room. He slowly turned his eyes toward the closet. The door's white paint looked eerily blue in the dim light from the ceiling hologram. There was someone inside. Pavel's heart thumped like a frightened rabbit's. He pulled his knees up close to his chest and clutched his covers tight.

"Shit," said an unfamiliar voice from inside the closet. Pavel was dreaming. He had to be. He thought he should try to fly away. This felt like the kind of dream he could control, so he should fly away to safety. But he stayed where he was; he wanted to know who was in his closet. Mama always told him he was too friendly with strangers and that some strangers weren't nice, and Pavel could never be sure who the not-nice ones might be. She also said that curiosity killed the cat, but Pavel never quite understood that one.

He reached over and turned on his bedside lamp. And he waited.

"Bloody son of a…" said the voice from inside the closet. It sounded odd. It had an accent that Pavel had never heard before.

"What the…What's this, a ball? Where the hell am I?"

Pavel giggled. He couldn't help it.

"Ow…OW! Bloody hell!"

And then the closet door burst open.

A man tumbled out in a flurry of Pavel's clothes and toys. By now Pavel wasn't surprised, but he was a little frightened. He stayed where he was as the man sat up and pulled a t-shirt off his head. He had dark hair that was all fluffy from his tumble. He had tiny ears and a roundish face, a pointy nose and a grumbly little mouth that turned down a bit at the corners. He sat crossed-legged on Pavel's floor, searching through the toy rocket ships and building blocks that had spilled across Pavel's carpet. He pulled something out of the pile that Pavel didn't recognize and exclaimed "AH-HA!" He then scrambled to his feet and began pushing buttons.

"Ah, hell," he muttered as he poked at the device. "Must've jammed it when I landed." He finally looked up, right into Pavel's eyes, and his annoyed expression softened to something more like confusion. "Oh…hi."

"Hi," Pavel said timidly.

The man looked around. "Er…this isn't where I was supposed to end up."

"Where were you supposed to end up?"

"Well…Wait, what's that accent you've got there?"

"Is Russian accent."

The man's eyes widened. "I beg your pardon?"

"What is the accent _you_ have?"

"Scottish."

Pavel lowered his knees, staring at the man in wonder, then at his closet in much the same way.

"So, hang on…" said the man as he stepped a little closer. He was wearing jeans and sneakers and a coat with lots of pockets. He didn't look dangerous, though Pavel knew that logically that meant nothing.

"I'm in Russia?" asked the man.

Pavel nodded.

"Well, that's not right," said the man, frowning at his little device again.

"Where were you going?" asked Pavel.

"Mars. Got a bet going with my mates. They don't think I can get my equation working by the end of shore leave, but I know I can, because I'm _this_ close, so I tried it out, possibly a _little_ prematurely, and wound up here…and you have no idea what I'm on about, do you?"

Pavel didn't, but his mind had gotten stuck on one particular word. "Equation?" he asked. "I like math."

The man smiled. "You do, do you?" He had a nice smile. In fact, it was nice enough that Pavel decided then and there that he was a nice man. He perched on the edge of Pavel's bed, and Pavel wasn't afraid at all.

"I am ahead of everyone in my class," said Pavel.

"Really? You sound like me when I was your age."

"How old are you?"

"26."

"Wow. That is very old."

The man laughed, and Pavel was pleased that he had been able to make him laugh.

"I suppose it would seem so to you," said the man. He then held out his hand. "The name's Scotty."

"Scotty," Pavel repeated to himself as he put his small hand in Mr. Scotty's hand. "My name is Pasha."

"Pleased to meet you, Pasha," said Mr. Scotty, shaking Pavel's hand. "I'll be outta your hair in a bit. Like I said, I was supposed to beam myself to Mars. I've got a mate who works at the fleet yards there."

Pavel's eyes lit up. "Utopia Planitia?"

"You've heard of it, then?"

Pavel grinned. "Yes! I know everything about Starfleet. I want to join one day. Are you a Starfleet officer? You don't look like a Starfleet officer. Where is your uniform? You beamed into my closet? I told Papa that could happen, but he didn't believe me. What is it like to be transported? Does it hurt? Does anyone ever get put back together wrong? Do you –"

"Whoa, whoa there, laddie," Mr. Scotty said with a chuckle. "You're a curious little thing, aren't you? I like that. Curiosity. Sign of a healthy mind."

Pavel smiled sheepishly. "My questions…they don't bother you?"

"Nah. Why would they? Let's see if I can answer them in order here. For the first one: yes. Second one: I'm on vacation, so no uniform. Third: yes, I did, evidently. Next one: it's nothing special, really. I mean, the science behind it is pretty amazing, but actually doing it becomes old hat fairly quickly. Next one: no, it doesn't. Next one: not that I know of, but there's been a mishap here and there. And…that's where I stopped you, isn't it?"

Pavel stared in amazement. He always remembered the order of his own questions, but no one else ever did. He still had many questions, but at the moment he was too busy staring at Mr. Scotty in wonder to remember to ask them.

"I've always had a really good memory," said Mr. Scotty. "Been that way since I was a boy. When I got older, it became a great party trick. Great for picking people up in bars too – well, sometimes. Some find it charming, but others just think it's creepy."

Mr. Scotty chattered away for a while. This was new for Pavel, sitting back and watching someone talk as much as he normally did. He liked it.

"So, you say you want to join Starfleet?" Mr. Scotty finally asked. "Well, that's an impressive goal." He glanced around Pavel's room, up at the holographic planets spinning above his head and at the twinkling star charts on the walls. "I bet you'll get in. Look at this place; it's a bloody space museum. Oh, shit, don't tell anyone I said 'bloody' in front of you. Or 'shit' for that matter."

Pavel had to cover his mouth to keep from giggling too hard. He then said, "I won't tell, Mr. Scotty."

"It's just Scotty, lad. So, as I was saying, I've got this theory about transwarp beaming…"

Mr. Scotty explained his theory and didn't seem at all worried about Pavel not understanding. Pavel asked about the things that he didn't quite get, and Mr. Scotty explained them to him, and he didn't get frustrated when Pavel didn't understand something or when Pavel asked lots of questions. He spoke to Pavel the way Pavel had heard adults speak to each other. By the end of the explanation, Pavel had migrated from beneath his covers to Mr. Scotty's side.

"So, as you can plainly see," said Mr. Scotty, "it's a perfectly sound theory, and I _know_ I can get it to work. I _feel_ it." Mr. Scotty touched his own chest, poking at his heart. "You know when something just makes sense? No one else gets it, but you feel it. It's a gut thing."

Pavel nodded. He understood, and he wanted to convey that to Mr. Scotty. He searched his brain for examples he could site to prove his understanding, something he felt the need to do a lot with adults, but Mr. Scotty smiled at him, a knowing smile that Pavel had never gotten from any adult besides his mama.

"You do get it, don't you?" said Mr. Scotty. Pavel nodded again. "I rather like you, Pasha."

Pavel grinned proudly. "I like you too, Mr. Scotty."

Mr. Scotty chuckled again, and Pavel didn't know why he was laughing, but he didn't care. He just liked the sound.

 

* * *

Mr. Scotty soon realized that he really shouldn't have been there in Pavel's room. Pavel still thought this might simply be a dream, meaning Mr. Scotty had nothing to worry about, but Pavel didn't get a chance to say so because Mr. Scotty received a call from his friends on a little device that Pavel now knew was used by Starfleet officers to talk to each other from far, far away.

"I got a bit sidetracked," said Mr. Scotty.

 _"With what?"_ asked the voice on the other end.

"Just…a thing. Lost track of time. Almost ready to go, though. Stand by. Scott out."

When he put the little device away, he looked somberly down at Pavel.

"You have to go back now, don't you?" Pavel said sadly.

Mr. Scotty crouched down to Pavel's level. "Aye. I really enjoyed talking with you, Pasha."

Pavel pouted. Perhaps he could make Mr. Scotty stay if he thought about it hard enough. That was always how he made himself fly in his dreams.

"Will you come back?" he asked.

Mr. Scotty's brow furrowed. "Not sure that's a good idea. I mean, this happened purely by accident, you see. I really shouldn't be here."

This made Pavel very sad, but he took a deep breath, puffed out his chest and bravely said, "I understand. Thank you for telling the truth to me."

"You get lied to a lot, don't you?"

Pavel nodded. "The grown-ups think they have to lie to protect me."

"Yeah, grown-ups are like that. Don't hold it against them; they only do it 'cause they love you."

"I know." Pavel lowered his gaze. "I will miss you, Mr. Scotty."

"I'll miss you too," said Mr. Scotty as he gave Pavel a hug. Then Mr. Scotty stood and was quiet for a while. He was supposed to be leaving, but something was stopping him. He frowned down at Pavel.

"You don't have many friends, do you?" he asked. Pavel bit his lip and shook his head. "You're like I was at your age; too smart and too weird for your own good. The other kids don't get you, do they?"

Pavel shook his head again. "I play by myself." He shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. "I don't mind. I like being alone."

"Oh, bollocks…Shit, don't tell anyone I said that." Mr. Scotty sighed and lowered himself to a crouch once more. "Listen, I've got a few more days of shore leave left. I could come back and see you a few times, if you really want me to."

Pavel perked up. "You won't get in trouble?"

"I might. If I'm caught." Mr. Scotty leaned in and whispered, "But you know, I'm pretty good at not getting caught." And he gave Pavel a little wink and a lopsided smile. Pavel grinned and practically bounced on the spot.

"You will come back?" Pavel said. "And we can talk about Starfleet and your job and space and math and –"

Mr. Scotty laughed again. "Yes, yes, we can talk about all that, but I really do have to go. I don't want to keep you awake any longer."

"I don't want to sleep," Pavel said brightly. "I would rather stay with you."

Mr. Scotty smiled warmly, reached out and rumpled Pavel's hair. "I'll be back soon. I promise. Okay?"

Pavel wished Mr. Scotty could stay, but Pavel was going to be good and not pester him and trust that he would return. He nodded and replied, "Okay."

Pavel stood back and watched Mr. Scotty disappear, fascinated by the way he shimmered as the transporter beam took him apart molecule by molecule. When he was completely gone, Pavel stepped into the space where he'd been. Yes, he was really gone. But Pavel wasn't sad, because he was coming back.

Pavel climbed back into bed and turned off his light. He was beginning to suspect this wasn't a dream at all. Everything felt too real. Mr. Scotty had felt too real.

 

* * *

The next night, Pavel fidgeted in bed for a long time, waiting for Mama and Papa to go to sleep. Pavel knew it wouldn't be long before Mr. Scotty arrived once they did, but they were taking a long time, and Pavel was so tired, he decided to close his eyes just for a moment…

A thud woke him up and made him sit upright. He turned on his bedside lamp and saw his closet door rattling, heard curse words in what he now knew was a Scottish accent and heard his toys clattering around.

"I have got to stop turning up like this," said the voice Pavel had been waiting for. Pavel scrambled out of bed and went to open the door. There stood Mr. Scotty, hunched over inside the closet, standing inside Pavel's toy chest. Pavel grinned the biggest grin, and the scowl on Mr. Scotty's face turned into a smile too.

"You know," he said as he climbed awkwardly out of the closet, "people this happy to see me are usually drunk. You're not drunk, are you?"

Pavel giggled. "No."

"Well, good." Mr. Scotty straightened up and brushed off his clothes. "Right. Well, we've got a couple of hours. What shall we do?"

They played with Pavel's hologram, using it to explore different galaxies. Mr. Scotty knew so much about everything. Pavel loved listening to him talk about stars and planets and what it was like to train at the Academy and serve on a starship. But Mr. Scotty could have talked about anything and Pavel would have been riveted; he loved listening to Mr. Scotty's accent.

Then Pavel pulled out his chess board and proceeded to show Mr. Scotty what he knew. They sat cross-legged on the floor, on opposite sides of the board.

"Mr. Scotty?"

"What?"

"When are you going to make your move?"

"I'm _thinking_."

"Okay…Are you thinking about how there are no moves you can make that will keep you safe?"

Mr. Scotty shot Pavel an annoyed look. "No, I am not thinking that."

"Oh…Do you not think you should be?"

With much grumbling, Mr. Scotty finally made his move, then sat back on his hands. "Well, go on, then, kick my arse…Don't tell anyone I said 'arse'."

Pavel made his winning move. Mr. Scotty smiled at him.

"You're quite brilliant, you know," he said. "I bet you're even too smart for these so-called advanced classes they've got you in. That's why you're so frustrated with everything; you're not challenged enough. You don't belong there."

Pavel gazed at him as he spoke. Pavel liked looking at him. He had the kindest eyes. They were a pretty steel blue, but the right one had a little rusty brown splotch in it. Pavel stared at that splotch, fascinated.

"What're you smiling about?" Mr. Scotty asked. Pavel hadn't realized he'd been smiling at all. He looked away, embarrassed.

"Nothing."

"You know, I think you enjoy beating me a little too much. Look at you, all dopey grins. Victory's gone to your curly little head."

"Mr. Scotty? Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Have you ever been in love?"

Mr. Scotty opened his mouth, then closed it again, then frowned and said, "Huh…Now, why would you ask that?"

Pavel shrugged. "Just curious."

"Well…can I tell you a secret?"

Pavel nodded. He sat up straight and raised his right hand. "I am very good at keeping secrets."

"Yeah? You won't tell anyone? Cross your heart and hope to die?"

Pavel crossed his heart. "And hope to die," he echoed.

"Well, all right, then. A little while ago, I was conducting this experiment on board my ship. Well, things went a bit pear-shaped and…I think I accidentally visited the future."

Pavel's eyes widened. "You traveled through time?"

"Yeah. Well, maybe. Still not sure. It might've been a parallel universe for all I know. Looked like I ended up at the Academy in San Francisco, and I was heading to my quarters, which makes me think it might've actually been in the past, but then this young man spotted me and ran toward me, and this is what makes me think it was the future or a parallel universe, because I felt like I knew him, but I couldn't figure out where from. And he was just…" Mr. Scotty paused and shook his head. "He was gorgeous. I mean, I think he was. It's weird, because I always remember _everything_. My memory's never failed me. Until now. The lad's face is nothing but a collection of individual features to me. I can't remember what he actually looks like. I remember he had these lovely, big eyes, like a doe's, only blue, and his smile was beautiful. And he had a head full of curls…just like you, in fact."

Pavel fidgeted, pleased to hear this.

"But what all his features look like _together_ …I can't remember. I think that happens when you really like someone sometimes; you could pick 'em out in a line up if you had to, but in your mind, the face sort of blurs." Mr. Scotty paused and was quiet for a while, just staring off at nothing. Pavel would normally fill such a silence with questions, but he kept quiet this time, somehow sensing that he should.

"And he came up to me," Mr. Scotty continued, "and I think we said some things, but I don't know what, and he took my hand. It was like he knew me too. I can't explain it, but I felt like I loved him. And damn if he didn't look like he'd been waiting his whole life for me." He sighed. "But then I got yanked back to my own time or reality or whatever. I was back in Engineering, and the curly-haired lad was gone." He shrugged. "That was months ago, and I can't stop thinking about it. Maybe what I saw wasn't even real, I don't know."

Pavel considered all of Mr. Scotty's words very carefully, then asked, "What did it feel like?"

"What?"

"Love."

"Oh. Erm…kind of itchy, actually. And nice. Quite nice."

Pavel crawled around the chess board and settled next to him.

"I think he is real," he said.

"What makes you say that?"

Pavel looked up at him. "Because you are a nice man and you deserve to find love. And you are so smart, I am not surprised that you figured out how to see your true love before it was time. By accident."

Mr. Scotty smiled. "Perhaps. Some of the best things are discovered by accident. From what I've heard, love's no different."

This seemed to make sense. Pavel had read about a lot of different inventors and scientists and knew that accidental discoveries happened all the time. He leaned his head against Mr. Scotty's arm and thought about this mysterious person that Mr. Scotty thought he loved. Pavel wondered what he was like and where he lived and how they would meet and what was special about him that made Mr. Scotty love him.

"Why'd you ask?" asked Mr. Scotty.

"I don't know," Pavel lied.

"Think you might be in love? With some adorable little genius in one of your classes, no doubt."

Pavel said nothing. Mr. Scotty's time was almost up and Pavel didn't want to spend the rest of the night talking about some imaginary person he was supposed to like when the person he liked was sitting right next to him.

 

* * *

On the final night with Mr. Scotty, Pavel was quieter than he'd ever been in his life, because he knew this was it. Mr. Scotty had to go back to his ship tomorrow, which would make it nearly impossible to sneak away to see Pavel. And Pavel knew that keeping in touch would be tricky, because Mama and Papa would surely be worried about a stranger writing to Pavel. Pavel didn't want Mr. Scotty to get in trouble. Pavel would have to let him go.

When it was time for Mr. Scotty to leave for good, he knelt before Pavel and took him by the shoulders.

"One day, you're gonna meet a whole mess of people who are just like you," he said. "They'll be scarily brilliant and fidgety and weird, and you'll have loads to talk about with them."

Pavel nodded, but said nothing.

Mr. Scotty sighed, looking defeated. "Can I have a smile at least? Just a little one?"

Pavel didn't smile. Instead he looked up at the starscape that spread across his ceiling. "One day, I will find you again," he said. "When I graduate from Starfleet." He met Mr. Scotty's eyes. Mr. Scotty looked doubtful. "I _will_ find you again," Pavel insisted. "I think you need me."

Mr. Scotty smiled. "And what makes you say that?"

"I think maybe you are lonely too."

Mr. Scotty glanced away for a moment and smiled the sort of smile that Pavel knew was more sad than happy. "You know, you don't have to be so perceptive _all_ the time. A little ignorance can be endearing."

Pavel managed a smile at that, but it was fleeting.

"Hey," Mr. Scotty said, taking one of Pavel's hands. "It gets easier. This life business. I promise you that. You believe me, don't you?"

Pavel nodded. "Yes. I trust you."

"Good. You're gonna be fine, Pasha. Better than fine. You're more capable than most adults I know. You're gonna join Starfleet, and your dad'll forgive you for it, and you're gonna be spectacular. Okay?"

Pavel took a deep breath, gathering strength. He would not cry. He forced his tears back. He would _not_ cry.

"Okay," he replied. Mr. Scotty hugged him, then, and Pavel squeezed him tight and shut his eyes and wished and wished that somehow Mr. Scotty could stay.

But he left, and the next night, Pavel stayed awake far longer than he should have, checking and rechecking his closet for signs of Mr. Scotty. But he didn't come back.

Pavel's life went back to normal. He went to school, he studied, but now he tried not to be too much, not to ask too many questions or be too loud or get too excited. He became very good at being good. He was praised for being quiet, for sitting still, for doing as he was told. His teachers told his parents there'd been a change in him, that he now seemed to understand the importance of silence. Papa was proud. Mama was pleased as well, but there was something in her eyes when she looked at Pavel; she knew something wasn't right.

Pavel wanted to tell her. If he was going to tell anyone, it would be her. But he could never tell her, or anyone else, that he was quiet now because his heart was broken.

 

* * *

Eventually, Pavel learned to ignore his broken heart. He concentrated on school and worked very hard, and when it came time to join Starfleet, Papa wasn't happy, but – and this was the one thing Papa could never hide, no matter how hard he tried – he was very proud. Mr. Scotty had been right; Papa did forgive Pavel.

Pavel was the youngest person to ever begin training at the Academy, and rather than finding a place where he truly belonged, he found he had to face many of the same challenges he always had at school; he was too young, too small and too weird, and many of his older classmates resented his achievements, despite being geniuses themselves. On top of that, many found his thick accent difficult to understand.

Pavel worked hard, kept his head down and his mouth shut. He contained his natural exuberance and didn't draw any excess attention. This seemed to get him through each day just fine, but made it difficult to expend all his excess energy.

So Pavel took up running. He ran every night before bed. All that pent-up energy from the day had to go somewhere, and if he didn't burn it off somehow, it would keep him awake for hours. Pavel needed his sleep. Not only was his schedule demanding, but in sleep, wonderful things awaited him.

He used to dream about flying, and sometimes he still did. But as he grew older, his dreams matured as well. And the one constant in them was Mr. Scotty.

Or Mr. Scott, as was his actual name. Montgomery Scott. Pavel looked him up as soon as he was away from home, discovered what ship he was assigned to and read about what he'd achieved in his career. Mr. Scott was an impressive officer, if a little unconventional and in trouble more often than any officer should be. But he was a genius, something that Pavel knew was difficult to contain. He couldn't be controlled. Pavel admired that. And found it immensely sexy. So much so that he often blushed just thinking about it.

He thought about trying to get in touch with Mr. Scott, but he never did. His feelings for Mr. Scott became yet another thing Pavel needed to control and hide, and Pavel was certain that actually speaking to Mr. Scott would cause all his carefully contained feelings to come bursting out of him. Besides, he was quite certain that Mr. Scott had more important things to do than babysit some lovesick kid.

So, Pavel left him alone and once again settled for dreams. In these dreams, Mr. Scott was very pleased, and even relieved, that Pavel had a crush on him, and he let Pavel show him exactly how much he'd been missed.

Then one day, a distress signal came from Vulcan, and every cadet was assigned to a ship immediately to assist. Pavel was assigned to the brand new and much talked about _Enterprise 1701_.

He was smaller and younger than everyone, and the computer had trouble understanding him, but he was accustomed to these things. He felt instantly at home at his station on the bridge, and when Captain Pike called on him to make the ship-wide announcement despite his accent, Pavel was quite pleased. His captain wasn't treating him differently than anyone else, which was exactly what Pavel wanted.

Pavel gained confidence, and when Lieutenant Sulu and Cadet Kirk were in trouble, and no one else seemed to think they could be saved, Pavel thought, _I can do that._ And then he said it aloud.

This would have been where one of his childhood teachers would have scolded him for speaking out of turn, for jumping up from his seat without asking permission. Of course, back then no one's life had been at stake. So Pavel did what he'd been training to do for years now.

He ran.

He knew there were confused and skeptical looks following him as he sped away. He had something to prove now, and if he was wrong, if he couldn't calculate fast enough…

 _"You be yourself, my little star,"_ he heard his mama saying. _"Always be yourself."_

No, Pavel wasn't wrong. He could do this.

And he did do it. He brought his crew mates back safely, snatching them out of mid-air at the last possible second. It was the most amazing feeling in this, or any other universe.

 

* * *

In less than one day, Pavel experienced the most amazing feeling in the universe and one of the worst.

He'd pushed himself too much, he'd been too eager, too cocky, too quick, and the result had been the death of his current captain's mother. He knew logically it wasn't his fault, but that didn't stop his hands from shaking.

And there wasn't even time to go and hide someplace and get his bearings. Pavel composed himself as best he could. Back to the job.

 _"You're more capable than most adults I know,"_ he heard Mr. Scott saying. Pavel doubted those words now, but remembering them helped a little. He wished Mr. Scott were there. Pavel would have given anything to talk to him, or even just see his face for a moment. Pavel hadn't checked up on him in a long time and had no idea where he was. There wasn't time now to look him up, and Pavel longed for even a small connection to him. The mere knowledge of his whereabouts would have been enough.

 

* * *

It was cold on Delta Vega. It was boring on Delta Vega. It was hungry on Delta Vega. The joke "is it hungry in here, or is it just me?" had gotten old about four months ago, _or_ immediately after Scotty said it the first time, six months ago, depending on who you asked. And seeing as there were only two people to ask, it was almost always a stalemate.

It was also lonely on Delta Vega, but that was one of the few things that Delta Vega was that Scotty was less inclined to admit to. It wasn't hard to see that he was the type of man who thrived on interaction, but Scotty was also very proud. The last thing he was going to do was go about whining that he was lonely.

It was also kind of horny on Delta Vega. But they didn't talk about that.

Keenser was short and lumpy and wholly unattractive. He was also a good guy. He didn't take up a lot of space and was good at his job. He required periods of meditation, during which he would perch on a flat surface, close his eyes and become dead to the world. These times were the worst for Scotty, because even though Keenser wasn't the best conversationalist, he could still listen. So when he meditated, Scotty had only himself to talk to, and these were the times when he wondered if he was losing his mind.

 _Everybody talks to themselves from time to time,_ he thought one afternoon, trying to appease himself.

 _Oh, yeah? Prove it._

 _Who said that?_

 _You did._

 _I did?_

 _Who else would it be?_

 _Erm…_

Scotty glanced around. Keenser was nowhere to be found. Scotty wondered if he'd been talking out loud or in his head. He couldn't tell anymore.

These times, while prime opportunities for delusions to take root, were also perfect times to put to use all those empty protein nib packets. Or at least they had been; Keenser quickly learned that meditating within reach of Scotty usually meant waking up…decorated.

So with Keenser perched someplace high above where Scotty couldn't get at him, and with nothing to do except talk to the voices in his head, Scotty spent this particular afternoon slowly going mad. And shivering. He did that a lot too. He pulled his coat more snugly around himself. The outpost should have been warm enough, and Keenser seemed fine, but for some reason, Scotty always felt a chill.

Eventually he fell asleep, fell into his beautiful dreams, the ones that kept him going in this place. But before sleep came, there were vivid fantasies about some Starfleet official turning up, some puffed-up admiral or some such swallowing his pride and shuffling into the outpost with his tail betwixt his legs, apologizing and begging for Scotty's help.

So you can imagine his surprise when the old Vulcan turned up with some kid in tow. Scotty wasn't sure they were actually there, but Keenser seemed to see them, so…

"You do realize how unacceptable this is," Scotty said. He wasn't about to take any crap, not even from a hallucination. Not only had they turned up months after they should have, but they'd also interrupted one of the most vivid dreams Scotty had ever had about the young man whose face he couldn't quite remember. He'd only seen him once, by accident during an experiment ten years previous, and ever since then, he'd been dreaming of this mystery person, of meeting him by chance one day, of the two of them remembering each other from some far off time a million years ago and instantly knowing they belonged together. It was ridiculous, fanciful, childish, impossible. This person probably didn't even exist. But Scotty had to cling to something.

At any rate, the hallucination wasn't a hallucination at all and the old Vulcan came bearing equations, a gift that, while not edible, was still greatly appreciated because it got Scotty the hell outta Dodge.

 

* * *

Keep quiet. Keep still. Do as you're told. These were the lessons that had gotten Pavel this far. His earlier victory had clouded his judgment, made him forget.

Pavel took his post on the bridge and went back to work, but a portion of his brain was now dedicated to wishing Mr. Scott was nearby.

Then suddenly, there were intruders on the Engineering deck.

And then they were on the bridge.

And then there he was.

He was older. And soaking wet for some reason. Pavel stared. Maybe it wasn't really him. It couldn't be.

"Are you a member of Starfleet?" Captain Spock demanded.

"Erm…yes. Can I get a towel, please?"

It was him. Pavel would recognize that voice anywhere. He maintained his composure; this was no time for happy reunions. Besides, Mr. Scott hadn't seen him yet. He might not even recognize Pavel.

 

* * *

Scotty liked this ship! The ever-present chill was still with him, and being wet certainly didn't help, but he'd gone from another monotonous day in the outpost to nearly drowning to what was essentially a bar fight on a starship's bridge in about 20 minutes flat. He could get used to this kind of pace.

Also, the little navigator was kind of gorgeous.

Scotty didn't notice him until everyone was standing around wondering if anyone was going to pry the captain's crushing grip from Kirk's throat. Scotty's eyes darted around, watching the shocked faces of the crew, and there he was, those big eyes of his locking with Scotty's, but only for a moment, because then someone bellowed the captain's name. The fight ended and Spock relinquished command.

Scotty tried not to ogle the young man too much, but it was difficult to ignore him when he insisted on running up to everyone with brilliant ideas that people twice his age hadn't thought of. Scotty tried to get the water out of his ears, all the better to hear said brilliant ideas, and stared at the ensign as he talked animatedly to Kirk, the new captain. Damn, but he looked familiar. But Scotty couldn't place him. Not even his name, Pavel Chekov, sounded familiar.

He could tell that the others weren't quite convinced that Chekov was on the right track, so Scotty informed them that the idea was sound. There was a crusty old doctor, who wasn't even that old but whose presence felt a million years older than Scotty's, who decided that Chekov's age mattered more than his intelligence. Scotty kind of wanted to smack him a little. What the hell was the doctor doing on the bridge anyhow?

But it didn't matter, because Commander Spock returned and confirmed Chekov's theory. And when Scotty had spoken up to back the idea, Chekov had locked eyes with him once more, just for a moment, and a little grin had almost crept onto his sweet face. His cheeks had flushed and there'd been a look in his eyes that Scotty could swear he recognized, something soft, hopeful, grateful. Scotty kept staring even after Chekov's attention was diverted to the Vulcan. There were angry Romulans on the loose with a killer space drill, headed for earth on a mission of destruction, and all Scotty could see was this curly-haired ensign.

Love. The word crept into Scotty's head out of nowhere. Scotty wondered where it had come from as he fidgeted, trying to reach an itch in the center of his back.

 

* * *

The C names left the ship before the S names did, but once the S names had disembarked, Pavel went looking and found Mr. Scott with a bag slung over his shoulder, searching for his assigned temporary quarters.

 _"It's just Scotty, lad,"_ Pavel remembered him saying. Back then, Pavel had been too polite and nervous not to add the "mister". _Just Scotty,_ he told himself as he approached.

Scotty didn't see Pavel at first; he was too busy checking door numbers. He looked so adorably perplexed, Pavel had to smile, and he broke into a run to get to him faster.

Scotty finally noticed Pavel as he was running. Scotty paused and watched Pavel with the same searching look that Pavel had seen before, the look that told him that Scotty did recognize him, but wasn't sure why.

Pavel finally came to a halt before him. "Hi," he said breathlessly.

"Hi," said Scotty, staring at Pavel in wonder. "Deja vu."

Pavel was close enough now to see Scotty's eyes. Those were the eyes he remembered, with that fascinating little rust-brown splotch in the right one.

"So, you do remember me," Pavel said.

"Aye," Scotty's said, though somewhat uncertainly. "I saw you once. It was like a dream. You were running toward me, just like you were a moment ago. You looked like you knew me, and…"

Scotty trailed off, but Pavel knew the end of the sentence, and the truth of the situation hit Pavel like a lightning bolt; Scotty recognized him, but not as Pasha.

"And you felt like you loved me," Pavel said, finishing the sentence, sheer awe dropping his voice to a whisper. That same awe seemed to have rendered Scotty speechless. Pavel stepped closer and said, "You are the man from my closet."

"I'm… _what_?" Scotty cocked his head and squinted at him. "Pasha?"

Pavel nodded.

Scotty looked him up and down. "Oh, this is weird."

"Have you thought of me over the years? Of the young man you saw that one time? And you never figured out that he and Pasha were one person? Did you think about Pasha? Did you wonder if he was okay, if he joined Starfleet, if he ever thought about you, if he ever –"

"Okay, okay, you really are him," Scotty laughed. That laugh; all of Pavel's questions faded away and he just gazed at Scotty's lovely smile.

"Haven't changed a lick, have you?" Scotty asked, looking fondly at Pavel.

Pavel shrugged. "I changed a little. I became afraid to be myself. But then someone, my friend, came to me just when I needed him. And now I'm not afraid anymore."

He took one of Scotty's hands. Scotty looked down at that in mild surprise, but there was something hopeful in his eyes when he looked up again.

"We keep meeting," Pavel said. "That can't be a coincidence."

"Does seem rather convenient. What do you think it means?"

Pavel thought for a moment, then said, "Once, many years ago, you told a little boy that you thought you were in love with a young man you had seen only once. That little boy held onto those words and he wondered who the young man was and what about him could make a brilliant man like you fall in love with him. That little boy is still not sure why you love that young man, because you hardly even know him. But the boy, he is here now to tell you that your young man…he loves you too."

Scotty stared, speechless again. Pavel stepped closer and touched Scotty's cheek with his free hand, his voice softer now as he said, "Which is to say, I think it means that we are supposed to be together."

 

* * *

Scotty wasn't a man who was prone to speechlessness, but words failed him completely as Chekov – no, as _Pavel_ spoke, and as he looked at Scotty as though he'd been waiting for Scotty his whole life.

And then Pavel kissed him, and it was so much better than any dream Scotty had ever had. He squeezed Pavel's hand and gingerly kissed back. Pavel's hand slipped down from his cheek and onto his chest, coming to rest over his heart.

When their lips finally parted, Scotty's brain felt all foggy. He blinked dazedly at Pavel.

"I must be dreaming," he whispered.

Pavel smiled and shook his head. "No. I told you I would find you again."

"You sure you know what you're doing here?"

Pavel shrugged. "No. Maybe I am wrong. Maybe this is a mistake. But I don't think it is." He tapped at his own chest. "I feel it. It is a, uh…what is the phrase? The man from my closet, he said it once."

Scotty smiled. "It's a gut thing."

Pavel nodded emphatically. "Yes! That is it. I feel it in my gut."

"You might wanna have a doctor take a look at that."

Pavel laughed. He was just lovely when he laughed.

"You are perfect," Pavel said. "You are brilliant and charming and funny and beautiful, and now I understand why I still haven't found the people I belong with, because the people I belong with is you, and…I would like to be your boyfriend," he added sheepishly. "Okay?"

Pavel was so sweet and awkward, there was simply no way Scotty could say no.

"Okay," he replied. He was rewarded with the biggest, brightest smile he'd ever seen, and then Pavel kissed him again, throwing his arms around his neck. Scotty felt his bag slip from his shoulder, heard it hit the floor, and didn't care. He took Pavel in his arms and kissed him for as long as Pavel wanted him to.

And suddenly Scotty realized that he wasn't cold anymore. The chill had finally gone.

The kiss broke, and Pavel, beaming like a beacon, bent over to pick up Scotty's bag and slung it over his own shoulder.

"Come," he said, taking Scotty's hand. "I will help you find your quarters."

Pavel began to walk, but Scotty stopped him, pulled him back. "I didn't know why at first either," he said, looking into Pavel's eyes. "Took me years to figure it out, but now that I'm here, I can tell you…" He stepped closer and whispered, "I love you because you're brilliant."

There was that lovely smile again, and Pavel kissed him once more as they strolled off together. For the first time in a very long time, Scotty wasn't cold or bored or hungry or lonely. As for horny, well…the way Pavel seemed to have claimed him, Scotty figured that would be taken care of soon enough.

 

* * *

And from that day on, Pavel never had another lucid dream, and he didn't miss them one bit.

END


End file.
